We're Better Together
by smileysoul
Summary: Being put together in a boyband was going to be a nightmare, they didn't need to be fortune tellers to know that. But fame is difficult and the struggle to the top hard and tough. Can they overcome their differences and stick together to face everything that's yet to come? (Kpop kind of boyband) - (Zosan)
1. Prologue

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**Prologue**

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Grand Line was _the_ big company of the moment in the music industry.

Kpop had risen out of nowhere for most occidental people and had suddenly taken a great part of the market, catching the attention of the media and big companies out there. It had taken some years to catch up with the music style Kpop generally worked with, but statistics were statistics and the genre slowly grew on the streets, gathering crazy fans pretty much everywhere. Doflamingo didn't particularly think it was the music itself that drew the attention, but the concept. That's what interested him, that's what he could _sell_.

The idea was simple. A big company gathered rookies whose dream was to become artists. They took in potentially good talents at a very young age and established a training program that lasted for years. If the kid had become what they expected, he could be put into a group that would carefully be planned and worked on until they made a launching debut. They could also go solo, go for acting, whatever they fit in. The idea was the training and what they ended up becoming. _Idols_. Idols that fans would stick to no matter what because they ended up loving their persona. Almost like a magnet.

_That_'s what caught Doflamingo's attention. To his particular materialistic point of view it was a way to create a perfectly polished product, something that would sell, something planned from the very start, each piece worked to perfection and fitting where he'd want to.

That's how Grand Line came to life being the first kind of company going for this working and music concept in western countries.

And it killed it.

Doflamingo had contacts, Doflamingo had money and Doflamingo had the will to kill it, so Doflamingo killed it.

Young artists from around the world started auditioning, the queues slowly becoming larger and larger, the applicants growing in number and talent. Lots of them went back home with their hopes crushed. Doflamingo only wanted the best in his team. But kids and teenagers kept coming and his training programmes began. The best artists in the market were employed to teach the kids and teens what they were to become like, to polish their vocals and make them unforgetable, to train their dance skills so that they could adapt to everything and anything they faced, the acting skills were basic.

Grand Line first debuted solo artists in order to test the waters. Young people who could and would take the market on their own without the need of a group as a background. First it was Cavendish. The young pretty face took the scene with a wink and the kind of smile that made knees tremble. The amount of young girls screaming his name at the top of their lungs increased in less than the board of the company had expected, and with a bunch of really good and tactical promotions Cavendish became _the_ big thing from day to night.

In less than a blink of an eye, Grand Line was bathing in money and awards that the young man brought home for them with his own sweat.

Next thing was Boa Hancock. They had expected it to be tougher, it was always more difficult with girls, with all the judjamental stuff they went through. But she fucking killed the charts. If Cavendish had become the big thing, she had become The Queen. The amount of magazines proclaiming her the most beautiful woman on Earth was insane and the amount of hardcore fans she gathered was something else. She went for everything. She debuted as a solo artist, both singing and dancing her first hit "Beautiful". People were blinded by her talent but specially her beauty and charisma. In the end _that _was exactly what moved ginormous crowds. She was quickly introduced to the acting scene and did just as well since her sudden fame preceded her wherever she went, and her talent in pretty much everything she did helped her case.

Doflamingo was like a child in Christmas. He had known Boa would make it far. She was his small jewel, he had seen her audition and personally ordered her entrance in the company training system, already scheming great plans for her. And he had been spot on. She had become what he expected, even better.

From then on, a few solo artists made it through Grand Line and succeeded, both in the music and acting field.

Khoza's name made it quite far.

Hina and Sadie were the first group launched. It was a duo. They were called "The Unit". Grand Line had bet their money on them as a team and got their payback. They made it up the charts through lots and lots of strategical promotions and a bold "bad girl" concept that caught attention and created controversy but ended up succeeding and doing really well.

A few years went by and the youngest trainees reached the age were they could start being promoted. Grand Line had already become a big name by then and established itself in the music industry as one of the big companies, its training program system becoming a huge deal that made others try that kind of system without nearly as much success, but still presenting tough competence.

Then came the _real_ jewel.

They were called The Muses. Nico Robin, Nami, Vivi Nefertary, Jewlery Bonney and Rebecca. They owned the market and became the greatest girl group out there in roughly two years, selling out their world tour and making the music industry go nuts with such a wild phenomenon.

Because they _were_ a phenomenon.

Not only did they have hardcore fans as a group, they also had fans as individuals, crazy and ready to rip heads if somebody badmouthed them. It became crazy, Doflamingo couldn't believe his luck. But hey, he, along with the headboard and training artists, had put them together, each of them carefully examined before deciding they'd be part of The Muses. It was a clinically formed group. A group that succeeded like none had before. It combined bold characters with more reserved and shy ones appealing to all kinds of potential fans. And they were all determined and ready to give everything they had to get to the top. Which they were currently doing.

It wasn't only the perfectly strategic promotions, nor their catchy songs and lyrics or breathtaking choreographies, it was each one of their characters, their individual charisma and persona, that's what attracted the fans, who slowly casted them in roles and helped to solidify their images as "this" or "that". They were the ladies young girls wanted to be like, they were the women both men and women desired as they saw them on screen performing perfectly coordinated dance moves, singing live and killing it while beaming a smile to the public as if they weren't doing the slightest effort.

They were a product. A great selling product. Doflamingo's greatest product after Boa.

And so came the day were a boy group project came to the headboard's tables. It had been two years since The Muses had made it big. It was about time Grand Line threw something new and fresh out in the market. It was time for Grand Line to come up with a product that killed it again. It was time for Grand Line to surpass itself once again.

The boyband was to be named "One Piece".

It was only a matter of deciding who would be in it. They had quite a lot of male trainees that could be good candidates, and some of them had already been spotted.

"They have to be a magnet, they have to be _the best_. We have to offer the best product in the market," Doflamingo declared with a predatory smile. "So, gentleman, let's put our brains to work."

Everything had to be analyzed. Personality, image, skills, balance in the group, charisma, presence, looks. They had lots of work to do if they wanted to manufacture the perfect matching team.

"Do you have any suggerences?" Crocodile asked from his seat, his permanently bored expression toughly directed at Doflamingo. He was one of the few people who didn't actually feel taken aback or intimidated by Doflamingo's power and influence. He was as much of a successful businessman as Doflamingo was and he had never ever flinched in his presence, nor had he had the need to pretend not to do so.

Doflamingo smirked when he caught a slight defying gleam in Crocodile's apparently uninterested expression.

"There are a few names that, I believe, _have _to be there. Please, be open-minded about this, I know the idea of some of them together might surprise or even bother some of you."

Crocodile raised an unimpressed eyebrow as the headboard directed all of their attention to Doflamingo, slightly wary at the warning.

"So? Please, enlighten us."

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><p>"And, exactly, who the fuck thought it would be a good idea to put these two idiots together in a fucking group?" Kid demanded with a frown as he watched Sanji's roundhouse kick land against Zoro's forearm.<p>

He was pissed off. Why had he been put in a fucking group? He had come here to make it solo, fuck the headboard and their retarded success plans! What the hell was he even doing here?! But he couldn't say no, of course. If Grand Line had put him there after so many years spent as a trainee it meant that that's exactly where they wanted him. And if they wanted him there it meant they didn't want him anywhere else. Which meant he was stuck with that bunch of idiots in the training room with a very bad mood and zero motivation.

"You know, if you two would just stop fighting we _might_ get a chance to start rehearsing," Law pointed out with his trademark deadpan expression, arms crossed and back against the wall. They didn't listen, of course. What was the point in being the leader of the damn group if they weren't going to obey or even listen to him? Not that he cared too much, Law used to give no fucks if he wasn't in a rush and they had plenty of time for now as far as he knew.

"You damn marimo bastard! Repeat that again!" Sanji howled as he bodily threw himself to Zoro yet again.

"I said you are an idiot curly-brow, curly-brow!" Zoro snarled as he dodged the next attack.

"I swear these two idiots have some misplaced brain cell," Ace sighed, raising an eyebrow at them but quickly turning to the take-away food he, Sabo and Luffy were sharing on the ground. If they weren't going to train anytime soon they'd rather eat something while watching the show they were being offered.

Law approached them and sat by their side, apparently reaching the same conclusion.

"Want some?" he waved a pot of noodles to Kid, who was sat by the other side of the room. Kid pointedly ignored him and Law shrugged in response.

"Woaaah! That one was good Sanji! Oh- And Zoro, wow, that was a good one too!" Luffy cheered far too loud for everyone else in the room as he watched the fight with sparks in his eyes and forcefully pushed food into his mouth even when there shouldn't have been any space left. But Luffy was like a human vacuum so, of course there was space left when it came to food.

"Luffy, shut up and eat or Ace will inhale your ration," Sabo warned as he stuffed his mouth with hot noodles.

"What! No way! Ace, don't you dare!" Luffy screeched turning back to Ace with a murderous glare. Ace ignored him.

"Oi, kiddo, you're far too loud! Shut your trap!" Kid barked from the other side of the room, visibly pissed at the whole situation.

"You're even louder, Kid," Law calmly pointed out without turning to look at him.

Kid barked something back but it couldn't be heard over the sound of Sanji and Zoro killing each other and almost destroying their rehearsals room. Not that Law would have given a damn had he heard what he had to say. Luffy and Ace were far too absorbed in their food-inhaling activities to even notice anything else around them. Sabo sighed, already feeling a headache forming.

So yeah, the new boy group Grand Line was going to debut in the near future, One Piece, consisted of Law as the leader, then Kid, Ace, Sabo, Zoro, Sanji and Luffy.

And it was going to be a tough path for them to endure if their first meeting as a group was anything to go by.

**TBC**

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><p><strong>AN: **Hello there! This is a new AU I just started. I started writting it for fun since I wasn't really inspired with my other two ongoing fics and I needed a bit of a change to clear my ideas. I am still working on Come Back, it's just that's it's taking longer than I thought and I used this story to take a small break. I wasn't going to post it as it was only a few ideas put together, but it just grew on me and now I am kind of excited about it xD

So yeah, this is just a prologue to put everything into place. I am not planning for it to be a fic I upload regularly since I still put most of my efforts in Come Back, but I have a few things written about this one and I will be posting them as I write and polish them.

Please tell me what you think, I am kind of nervous since this is a pretty new atmosphere I am putting them in and I'd like to know your opinion. I've been pretty interested in some K-pop groups recently and I thought the whole concept they work with is interesting and different from what we have around here, and it popped in my mind that I could take that kind of system and concept and put it in Doflamingo's manipulating hands with Zosan 'stuck' in it. Poor them xD

I think it's a pretty interesting atmosphere to place them in as well, their characters could work well in here, I am just experimenting.

Thanks for reading this, I really hope you enjoy it and find it as interesting as I do, and please give your opinion on it if you have the time, it's really useful to me! ;)

See you in the next one!


	2. Trainee Days: Sanji's Audition

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_**Trainee Days**_

**Chapter 1**

**Sanji's Audition**

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><p>He was slightly trembling as he walked to the auditions room. A few guys had come out with tears streaming down their cheeks and frustration written all over their faces. They had been rejected. Actually, a worrying amount of them was being rejected, which was slowly creeping into Sanji's nerves.<p>

His phone buzzed and a message popped in.

_From: Old Geezer_

_Good luck today little eggplant._

Sanji rolled his eyes. Damn the old geezer.

At some point a young woman caught his attention and made him come in. It was his turn.

_Okay, calm down. It's your time to make something good of yourself. Don't fuck up, _he toughly told himself in the privacy of his head, his jaw clenching in an attempt to calm down and not let his nervousness show.

"Welcome."

Sanji's gaze rose until it met a group of older people watching him intently from behind a long table filled with files and photos and half emptied bottles of water.

"Uhm, thanks," he managed to answer. Oh, come on, he wasn't shy, for fuck's sake! _Pull yourself together, Blackleg_. "Nice to meet you all."

"What's your name?"

"Sanji Blackleg."

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen."

"What's you speciality?"

"Singing. And dancing. I can definitely dance."

"Alright. Over those two, which one would you say you're better at?"

Sanji didn't have to think twice. "Singing, sir."

The man who had been asking questions nodded as he gave him a long hard look, inspecting him as if he was some kind of weird species. He was bulky and tall and had a rugged face, a cigar in between his lips, silky silver hair crowning his head.

"I'm Smoker, and these gentlemen here and I will be examining you. Are you ready?"

Sanji felt a lump in his throat and suddenly realized it was fucking dry. Dammit, it wasn't the moment, he had to fucking blow them away with his singing! He felt nervousness reign his body again. Damn, he should have brought a bottle of water with him, why hadn't he thought of it?

"I, uhm... Yes."

"Okay, what are you going to sing for us? Did you prepare anything?"

"Yes, I did but... Could I... Could I have some water first, please? … Sir? My throat is dry."

Smoker raised an eyebrow at that, apparently surprised that he had the audacity to make them wait and ask for water in such a situation. Which actually amused him a lot.

"Go ahead," he gestured with a smirk as he handed him his own bottle of water. It wasn't even opened.

Sanji drank and politely thanked him, feeling much better than before and thanking his lucky stars that those people weren't assholes but rather nice and patient. Asides from their intimidating poker faces that told him they weren't one bit impressed.

"Ready now?"

"Yes."

"Okay, let's do this again, what are you going to sing for us?"

"Impossible, by Shonthelle."

Smoker grinned.

"Oh yes, it was a great hit after some guy covered it about... fifteen years ago?"

Someone in the audition team nodded.

"Okay, let's see what you've got. I have to tell you, you're being recorded," Smoker added pointing at his back. "By that camera over there. Please, don't feel preasured."

And then he made himself comfortable in his big-ass chair, leaving Sanji to either shine or drown himself.

Sanji took a deep breath and told himself he could do it. He knew he could. He had a privileged voice and he had rehearsed the song hundreds of times, his voice was in perfect condition and every word was sunk in his brain, he just needed the conviction that he could do this.

And so he started singing.

He blew them away. He watched as their eyes slightly widened when he reached the first chorus, cleary not expecting _that_ voice coming out of a pretty face and a young slim teenage body.

He would have smiled at the sight, but he was far too inmersed in the song and his features were slowly turning tortured. It was a thing of his, whatever he sang, he got himself into character the moment the first words left his mouth, feeling the song as if he had been the one to write it and live the experience it was relating. He even got goosebumps when he got to the last chorus, getting into the song up to a point he could feel the pain of the words he was singing. Up to the point his voice and feeling blew the audition team away.

There was this woman trying to hold back the tears. There was Smoker grinning widely without containing himself one bit. There was this 'I found the treasure' expression in each one of their faces when he finished. They didn't burst into applauses, they just remained quiet for a while, observing him with renewed interest and admiration. Sanji could almost see the gears working fast in their heads, gambling with all the possibilities Sanji's talent offered.

"You say you can dance?" Smoker finally asked, his expression back to neutral but shining with something else that almost made the room glow.

"I can," Sanji nodded, his confidence back in place.

"Well, then. Go ahead and show us."

Sanji nodded and took a breath, trying to relax himself, slightly shaking his legs so that they'd loosen up. Then he craned his neck a few times, regaining the feeling that not only he could do this, but he could kill it.

"Did you have any song prepared?" the woman beside Smoker asked as she leaned in to take a better look at Sanji, who had finished stretching with a tall proud pose. Her eyes scanned him as clinically as a doctor's.

"Yes, actually…"

"Actually, _we_ are going to select the song. You dance to it, whatever comes to your mind," Smoker interrupted with a defiant smile.

Sanji blinked and suddenly understood what Smoker wanted to do. He wanted to get him out of his comfort zone. Challenge him to improvise, see if he could blow them away just the same. Sanji took a deeper breath, trying to calm down his racing heart and feeling the challenge run through his veins. That kind of stuff pushed all of his buttons. Tell him he can't do something, _insinuate_ he can't do something, challenge him to do something especially difficult… if you did that, you had Sanji's attention in the palm of your hand. If you did that, you either got the worst or the best out of Sanji. And he had made it a goal to give his best whenever he felt challenged and pushed to the edge. There weren't many things Sanji enjoyed as much as proving that he could do something others had thought he couldn't. Seeing the expressions on their faces after he had done so were priceless, and it brought a weird kind of satisfaction to his young, proud and competitive self.

So Smoker was challenging him. That meant he had seen _something_ in him. Something else than a powerful voice. And Sanji wasn't one to refuse to prove that something.

"Fine," he agreed with a cheeky smirk that showed a confidence he did not quite feel as much as he wanted to.

"Let's see what you've got, boy," Smoker grinned.

Boy. He had to go and call him 'boy'. Well, if that didn't piss Sanji off.

"Bring it on."

And so Smoker did. He kept changing music styles and songs as Sanji struggled to come up with his best moves as the changes went on. Which was fucking difficult and tiring and stressing. But he knew he was surprising them, and what's more, he was making them love him the way people love money.

He had this rhythmic clock inside his body, it automatically moved to the music, it automatically hit the beat as it went, no misplaced moves, no weird body waves, everything was precise, timed and organic. That's something he had been born with. And then there were his fighting moves and flexibility. He was proud to recon himself as the most flexible person he had ever met. On the other hand, his old man had taught him how to fight. A unique deadly style that almost looked like a dance, similar to savate but unique in its own way. When his leg went straight to the ceiling and formed a clear vertical line with his other leg, the audience gasped. When he fell on his hands and started kicking the air like a whirlwind, Smoker grinned wider. When he fell to the ground in a perfect split, the woman sitting by Smoker side opened her eyes so wide Sanji feared they would fall from her face.

When the music grew slower and sad, Sanji's body flowed with it and he drew sadness in the air. When it turned upbeat, his moves became quick and breath-taking and his stance screamed 'badass'.

But Smoker wasn't one to play soft and he kept him dancing for what felt like ages, changing the beat and style without giving him a break or an easy bit, and Sanji grew tired and his breath hitched, and at some point his tired limbs stumbled and he lost control of his movements, suddenly coming to a stop as his face turned red under the sweat and his body stopped obeying him in favour of screaming at him in pain at the stress being put on it.

Shit. He had fucked up.

Smoker had a mocking grin on his face. The rest of the audition team looked utterly surprised, just that he didn't know if it was due to his dancing skills or his way of fucking up in the end, destroying the enchanting atmosphere he had worked so hard to create.

"If that's all you last before your limbs fail you, you'll need far more practice, brat," Smoker pointed out, his mocking tone matching his smirk.

Sanji turned even redder in embarrassment and shame until he realized something. _"You'll need far more practice."_ Well, last time he had checked, that didn't mean he had completely failed. That meant there was the reality of potential improvement behind hours of practice. That could well mean he had a second chance. 'You'll need more practice' doesn't equal 'you are not worth it'. Sanji felt a smirk grow in his lips.

"That's what I came here for," he panted, trying to regain his breath and composure.

He caught a few smiles in the audition team, all looking amused and, what's important, interested.

Smoker looked at him in the eye and studied his face for a while as Sanji calmed his breathing down and wiped some sweat from his eyes. He was starting to lose his crumbling confidence when Smoker finally spoke.

"We'll give you a call."

Sanji took the hint and swiftly nodded, leaving the room with firm steps as he waved goodbye.

"Make sure you do," he smiled before closing the door behind him in an attempt to look cool and composed instead of nervous and embarrassed.

Then he took a deep breath, sighed and left the building, feeling the eyes of all the young people queuing to audition laying on him. They could be seeing from up close a future music star, after all. That's what the dream of all those young kids was, wasn't it? To be the one chosen. And whoever left that room could be that person.

Sanji punched the number of the old man with trembling fingers as he bathed in cold air and breathed in relief. Whatever the outcome, that was it, he had done it, he had given his best. He didn't have to wait long before a gruff voice answered at the other side of the line.

"Hi, little eggplant. So, how did it go?"

Sanji felt the words trapped in his throat for a moment as he dedicated his first thoughts to a question he hadn't properly asked himself yet. He pictured Smoker's challenging grin.

He ended up smirking.

"I think I got them."

**TBC**

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><p><strong>AN: **Hi there! I am already posting this one since I had already written it and I just revised it, so I thought I might as well post it and get the story going for you guys! :)

I am not exactly sure about how the structure of the story will work, I may end up going backwards and forward in the story line. This chapter is set a few years before One Piece is formed so we are travelling back in time and I'll probably work from that point on, which means there'll be chapters relating to their trainee days. Which means we'll have them as teenagers for a while! :P

Thanks for the reviews so far, they have motivated me a lot! See you in the next one!

:)


	3. Trainee Days: Not Enough

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**Trainee Days**

**Chapter 2**

**Not enough**

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Sanji had always thought he was good.

Well, of course, he was _really good_ after all.

But now he was surrounded by people who were really, _really_ good.

Which was a problem taking into account that he was part of a training program as one of the many trainees that gave their all to be the ones to be promoted by the company when the time called.

"Yes, yes, darling, your flexibility is admirable but the angle is just _not_ right at all!"

Sanji shivered in despair when he saw Bon Clay making his way to his poor self and touched more than strictly necessary to put his leg in the right place. He had barely had three classes with the freaky man but he was already on the top of his 'people to painfully murder' list.

"Now. Now it's just beautiful~! Keep it like this until I tell you darrrrling~! Oh, don't glare at me, you're far cuter when you smile, sweetie!"

Sanji swore he'd be glad to either die or murder the man right there if he had to hear him call him 'daaaaaarrrrrling~' once more.

He heard a guy called Kid snicker by his side and he was about to curse him out loud when karma stepped in an acted in Bon's form.

Eustass Kid was _definitely_ a good dancer, his wild raw moves managed to take anyone's breath away, but he lacked the flexibility that Bon Clay demanded. Damn bulky overworked guy. He thought so highly of himself and would make little of other's at every chance he got, but he still made mistakes, mistakes that Bon was currently correcting much to the redhead's despair. Sanji was about to snicker at the bastard's bad luck but he restrained himself. He was the newbie there after all. Moreover, Kid was two years older than him and a huge deal taller and bulkier, so he better not push his luck.

When the practice finished, Sanji sighed and headed to the changing room, undressing and taking a short deserved shower while some of his new classmates did the same.

When he got dressed again and took a look at his watch he internally whined. It was past eleven o'clock at night. Again.

He had started his training program three weeks after receiving the 'you are in' call and after lots of examinations, interviews and further aptitude tests that helped build him a personalized schedule. The program had finally started on Monday. It was Wednesday and he was already exhausted to the bones. He got up at six and did his stretching exercises as he always did, then showered, had breakfast and went to school at eight. His classes lasted until four o'clock. Then Patty would come and get him at school to take him to Grand Line quarters, which would take less than half an hour trip. He'd change and start his singing lessons with Igaram at five. Sometimes it would be an individual lesson, sometimes it would be a collective one. Train his voice for hours. At seven he'd start some physical training for an hour and a half. After that, two to three hours of intense dance training with Bon Clay.

The first singing class he had attended made him realize a few things. Just like how tough competence could be. There were a few _great_ singers there. He had been put in Igaram's class, the one teacher who had the highest reputation when it came to singing lessons. He hadn't had to climb his way up there because he was damn good from the start. But all the people attending his same class were as good or better than him.

There was this Trafalgar Law dude, he was four years older and damn if he wasn't a fucking good singer. He was great and his voice was so rich it literally gave goose bumps without a damn effort from the dark haired man. Because he was young, but he was already a man. Sanji looked like a fucking kid compared to him. When he entered the class for first time some guys had eyed him in a way he didn't like one bit. He was damn young and he was put in the same class as them and even surpassed a bunch of the guys there. So the most competitive ones were annoyed as fuck and felt belittled. Law only raised a curious eyebrow. He had caught Sanji's attention with his tattoos and dark bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept for days. And damn, the guy was freaking hot, Sanji had to admit, even if he was an inveterate ladies man at fourteen already. He didn't need to blink twice before he knew that guy would make it big. If only he could dance half as well as he sang, Grand Line would promote him in no time. The looks definitely helped.

Then there was the Sabo guy. He was only a year older than him, only fifteen. Good voice, that guy. Really good, actually. He couldn't quite compare to Law or Sanji and actually struggled in Igaram's classes, but hey, he was a hell of a singer when it came to lower registers, and he looked nice and warm. Someone approachable and friendly. When Sanji's first lesson ended, Sabo introduced himself with a wide smile and guided him to the cafeteria as they waited for their dance lessons.

During the dance lessons, the one who surprised him the most was Kid. That guy was impressive. Not only did his appearance and presence cause turmoil and dragged attention, his dancing was as aggressive and provocative as his looks. He knew what he was doing and he was damn good at it. Where Sanji was smooth, he was aggressive, where Sanji was subtle, he was flashy. Where Sanji was intuitive, Kid was perfectly technical and on point. They had totally different styles but Sanji didn't need to be a genius to know that the guy surpassed his abilities without as much as making an effort. And the guy had by far more stamina, his energy seemed to last forever when he danced while Sanji's evaporated quickly. He thought of Smoker telling him he needed more practice. He was totally right.

Kid still eyed him as if he was a threat though.

Both Law and Sabo were in his same class there as well. Law watched him every now and then, apparently interested in some of his dance moves but, other than that, they didn't exchange words. Sabo kept him company though. Bless the guy. Since they were about the same age they got on pretty well.

What Sanji didn't quite understand was what he was doing in an advanced class like _that one_. He had always thought he was good. And fuck, he was, he did have the talent imprinted in his veins. But he just couldn't keep up. Where the others were starting to get tired he was already exhausted. Where Bon would kick him in the head for being weak, the others kept going and dancing to the beat. He had never felt this frustrated in his life. He was fucking good. But he had never taken dancing lessons and Smoker fucking knew he needed to adapt to the rhythm and practice _a lot_ before being able to endure _that_, but he still had put him in a class he felt he didn't belong to. He knew his own limits and wasn't _that_ ashamed to admit them, they only meant he needed to become stronger, better, faster, greater. But there he was and he just felt like he couldn't keep up with all those people who, generally speaking, were much older and a whole deal better and more experienced than him. He had _just_ turned fourteen, he was a fucking kid, and those guys had been training for years and were older and more experimented. What the fuck was he doing there?! What had Smoker been thinking?! Smoker or whoever had designed his personalized training regime.

"Sanji, get up, this is only starting!" Bon reprimanded him when he fell on his knees after two hours of hard training. Kid kept doing the moves by his side as if it wasn't his business. Sanji wanted to scream in frustration. He really couldn't take seeing himself not being able to do something.

Bon kneeled by his side with a worried expression when Sanji's trembling legs didn't respond, even when he really was trying to get up. Shit. It was humiliating. What was he doing here again?

"Come on, darling," Bon's motherly tone grew softer as he helped him up. "Go drink some water, sweetheart. Then start again."

And as much as he hated Bon, he had to thank the fact that the man had a good heart and actually treated them as persons and not as objects he had to polish. Because he had just been there for three days but he had already heard stories about awful teachers who didn't give a fuck about how tired you were or how much it hurt. Like, _really_ didn't give a fuck, not the 'pretend I don't give a fuck so as to piss them off and make them prove me wrong' thing.

So, all in all, he learned that he still had to be _much_ better. He learned that there were people who were worth more than him at pretty much everything and he learned that he'd have to fight his way up if he wanted to be promoted when the time came. Fuck, he was so weak compared to what he thought he was capable of. He was capable of a lot of cool shit, but it still wasn't enough. Some of his companion's looks told him. Bon's condescendence told him. Sabo's slight pat on the shoulder as they left the changing room told him. The trembling in his tired limbs as he exited the Grand Line building told him. The way he wanted to cry in frustration at the end of the day when he realized he'd get home around twelve and get no sleep since he still had to do tons of homework from school told him.

He still wasn't enough.

He had only started, though. He had quite a lot of time ahead to make himself suitable, to make himself better, to make himself the best candidate to promote. If he just lasted enough and kept it together through the molding process they all went through, he'd be alright. He'd be the best he could be. He'd make his dream real. Perform at All Blue. That was the wish that made it worth it.

Sanji sighed. If he had only spent three days in the training program and he already needed to remind himself of his ultimate dream in order to keep going, he didn't want to know what it would be like when that kind of stressing life had actually taken a toll on him.

"Oi, eggplant!"

Sanji lifted his gaze in surprise when he heard his old man's voice. His car was parked right in front of Grand Line's doors, the old man looking at him with critical eyes through an open window.

"What the hell are you doing here, old geezer?" Sanji barked. Because he was a proud cool teen who was embarrassed that his daddy came to pick him up after school, you know, same old shit.

Zeff rolled his eyes.

"Get in or I'm going home alone and you can take that shitty bus by yourself."

As much as he was scowling and sending his old man deadly glares, he was quick to jump in. He really hated that shitty night bus. And the trip back home was a deal longer. He really needed to get his homework done as fast as possible if he wanted to get at least five hours of sleep before going back to school and starting what would be his everyday kind of day from now on.

"How was it today?" Zeff asked as he drove away with a serene expression. Sanji noticed his father was purposely ignoring his trembling arms and fingers.

"Tiring."

"Are you already complaining, eggplant?" Zeff asked in a casual tone that didn't quite hide the will to annoy the kid.

"Don't call me that, you old geezer! Of course I'm not complaining, you fucking asked!" Sanji screeched as he stabbed his old man with a deadly glare.

"Watch that mouth."

"As if you didn't go around swearing like a shitty sailor," Sanji grunted, scowl back in place.

"You know those people won't like that kind of vocabulary in one of his perfect-to-be trainees," Zeff mocked.

"Shut up."

Zeff teasingly smirked but restrained himself from saying anything else. He knew Sanji was dead tired and probably feeling frustrated as hell. Which made Zeff feel proud that his brat was trying not to show it. He'd need a lot of those strong facades if he wanted to really get into the jungle that was the music industry nowadays.

They managed to get home before twelve, so it was exactly at twelve, after having prepared himself a nice cup of tea and eaten a snack, that Sanji sat down in front of his desk and started to do school homework. He had to thank the old man that he had thought of picking him up, it had been far faster than coming back by bus.

He went to sleep at two o'clock in the morning and woke up at six, tired as hell. He forced himself out of bed so that he could do his morning stretches and exercises and have time to shower before eating some breakfast and preparing his lunch and dinner box for the day. They usually had dinner during the short break in dance lessons and he'd rather eat something healthy and homemade than shitty fast food.

And so his day started once again.

* * *

><p>Saturdays started early in Grand Line for trainees, they had to be there at eight and left at five or six o'clock in the evening after spending all day training.<p>

It was during lunch break at the cafeteria that Sanji found himself with a free hour for himself. He instantly felt happy that he'd have time to eat properly but as much as he'd make it last, he had finished his lunch box in twenty minutes. When facing the dilemma of what to do, he smiled at himself for having thought of bringing homework with him and put his brain to work. The more homework he managed to get done, the less stressed out he'd be during the week when he got home at midnight and still had homework to finish. Sabo wasn't there so he really had nobody to talk to since he still didn't know a soul, and he had nothing better to do.

He didn't know for how long he'd been absorbed in that particular math problem when he felt a presence by his side.

"Can I sit here?"

When he lifted his gaze he met the most beautiful redhead he had ever seen. She must have been around his age, maybe younger, still a kid but already pretty. He felt his heart swoon and he swore his eyes had managed to metamorphose into hearts.

"Of course you can, my angel!" he smiled as he gestured to all the empty seats around him.

The girl made a weird face to his reaction but still sat in front of him, letting Sanji clear the table surface in front of her of all of his open books so that she could work on it or eat or whatever that beautiful creature wanted to do.

"You know, it's a weird sight to see people doing their homework here in the cafeteria," she commented with an amused smile.

Sanji looked around and realized it was true. The cafeteria was far from empty, but everyone there was either eating or chatting up. Some really original dudes were building planes out of napkins, but that was the toughest brain effort they'd make.

"Well, I don't have that much time to do it at home and I'd rather use my free time here so as not to stress out later," he politely answered, flashing her the best of his smiles.

"None of them have either, they just don't give a fuck," the girl shrugged.

Sanji raised an eyebrow at her language but didn't say anything. He quite liked that, to be honest. Then she placed some books on her side of the table with a distracted expression.

"Do you also do your homework here?" Sanji asked with a kind smile.

The redhead returned the smile. "I don't want my marks to drop," she explained.

"Same with me."

"Well, you'll realize it's practically impossible to keep high marks like this but you still can keep them decent enough if you make an effort."

"How long have you been here?" Sanji curiously asked as she opened her books and took a pen from where she had previously placed it behind her ear.

"You mean as a trainee?"

Sanji nodded. He really liked that girl. She was damn beautiful and when she talked she was too cute, so he'd rather keep her talking. He could use some nice distraction anyways.

"About a year now," she answered after giving it some thought.

"Really?" Sanji was surprised. She looked really young, maybe younger than him. That would mean she had started _quite _young compared to the average age kids started being trainees at.

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"Oh, wow," Sanji muttered, eyes wide open. "You started at twelve?"

The girl nodded with a small smile.

"That's quite young, isn't it?"

The redhead shrugged.

"Is dancing your thing or singing?" Sanji asked, not being able to stop his curiosity. The girl gave him an amused look. She didn't seem to be too bothered by his questions.

"Pretty much everything. Also acting. Whatever they give me, I slay it," she declared, not being a bit modest about it.

Sanji felt his smile grow wider. Well, well, that was quite a confident young girl he had there. He liked confident people as they came. And he particularly liked that confident small girl with a pretty face. Needless to say his young hormones were experimenting quite a high lately. The age and all that jazz, you know. Shame it was more of a chronical thing for him, even if he didn't know it yet.

"What about you?" the redhead suddenly asked.

Sanji felt his heart do a crazy pirouette and wondered why the fuck his body wouldn't do the same when Bon commanded him to.

"Uhm… For me it's both singing and dancing. Haven't tried acting."

"You're new here, aren't you?"

Sanji gave her a shy smile and nodded.

"I started on Monday."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, are you the Sanji guy?" the girl inquired.

Sanji blinked in surprise, suddenly lost.

"Uh… yes, that'd be my name, my flower."

The girl smiled widely. "I knew it! There was this rumor that there was a new blonde guy who had made it straight to Igaram's class."

"Is that weird?" Sanji asked, still lost and extremely surprised that there were people talking about him already.

"Well, yes, they only put the best singers in Igaram's class, it's, like, the highest rating you could be put in when it comes to singing. Getting there from the start says a lot about your audition," the redhead explained.

"I… well, yes, I guess," he stuttered, taken aback by that sudden compliment and feeling redness creeping up his cheeks.

"My name is Nami, nice to meet you," she grinned as she professionally extended her hand to him, her childish face making the gesture quite comical.

Sanji suddenly realized he hadn't properly introduced himself to such a beauty yet and mentally slapped himself in the face.

"Oh, my bad! I'm Sanji, really nice to meet you!" he burst, rushing to hold her hand and shake it with a stupid apologetic smile imprinted in his red face.

"Which dance class are you in?" Nami asked as she retreated her hand from the far too long hold Sanji had been keeping on it.

"Bon Clay's."

"Then you better hurry. It's starting in five minutes," she smirked with what Sanji swore couldn't be a devilish smile in that angelical face.

"Shit!"

"Try not to break your neck getting there!" Nami waved goodbye as Sanji ran out of the cafeteria as if his feet were on fire and barely avoided colliding against a table and an older trainee.

* * *

><p>"Sanji, darling, you really don't keep up, that's not good," Bon Clay muttered with pouting lips as the other students started leaving the room and Sanji regained his breath laying on the floor. He was currently feeling sick and about to pass out. Damn Bon Clay and his 'Saturday special trainings'.<p>

Sanji felt a lump in his throat as his panting hitched and he fell into a coughing fit. Shit, that clearly meant he wasn't enough. Did that also mean he'd have to be transferred to a lower level? Damn, he knew he'd probably have less chances of dying of a heart attack there but, hell, that fucking hurt his pride.

"Well, at least you did finish the exercises but your core needs to be strengthened _a lot_," Bon continued when his coughing let Sanji hear what he was being told.

"I'll practice harder. At home. Whatever, just give me extra exercises, I'll do them," Sanji panted with a hoarse voice as he stood up with difficulty. It had been three fucking hours training nonstop. _Just please don't tell me I'm not enough,_ he thought. _Don't tell me I'd better be at home_.

"Oh, darrrling, don't look like that!" Bon exclaimed as he patted his back. "You are good and your flexibility is admirable, you just need more practice. Like, a lot more, but hey, let's not be harsh here! Come on, cutie, smile at uncle Bon!"

Sanji had to restrain the urge to implant his foot in Bon's face in retaliation. And, really, his freaky face was way to close to his for his comfort. Close enough to… And Bon leaned in and placed a sloppy lipsticked kiss on his cheek. The kind of fucking kiss that reminded him of a fucking cow licking his face.

"Aaaaaaaagh!" Sanji howled as he pushed his way away from the bastard.

"See? Looks like uncle Bon's kiss managed to cheer you up, that's my boy!" Bon cheered as he clapped his hands in the most enthusiastic creepy way Sanji had ever had the displeasure to witness.

"Don't you ever do this again!" Sanji yelled in outrage as he pointed straight at Bon and his outrageous tutu from a safe distance.

"That's a better attitude! Really lively! Okay now, sweet cheeks, you are dismissed, you can go home and get some rest! I'll see you here at eight tomorrow morning!" Bon proclaimed in his stupid annoying voice tone.

"What? Tomorrow?" Sanji was suddenly too confused to be angry anymore. Last thing he knew Sundays were his day off.

"Well, you _do_ need _a lot_ more practice, so I'll have you having some extra lessons until you can keep up with the class' rhythm," Bon told him with motherly demeanor. But as he looked straight in his eyes, Sanji knew there was no arguing it. He was going to have to agree if he wanted to keep his place in that class and actually improve. So he agreed.

"See you tomorrow, then."

And he left feeling like he was a failure but knowing Bon Clay was giving him an opportunity he wouldn't have given him if he didn't believe he could actually improve to the desired level. And there he had thought he was really good at dancing.

"Hey!"

Sanji turned to Bon Clay just before getting out of the room.

"Don't fret, my dear. You _are_ good. But you are here to improve and become your best, aren't you?"

Sanji blinked at Bon and mechanically nodded, letting the words sink in. And when they did, he smiled and he declared, "I will become _the_ best."

Bon smirked a creepy smile that intended to be warm. "That's the attitude I want from you, sweetheart. Now go and rest, you'll need it for tomorrow."

Sanji was surprised to see Sabo waiting on the other side of the door, looking at him with worried eyes. Had he been waiting for him?

"What did he say to you?" the older kid asked with caution. He received a tired but relieved smile.

"He gave me a chance. I'll be having some extra classes to get to your level so that I'm not a hindrance to the group."

Sabo's face grew a smile of his own, bright and relieved to hear the good news. Sanji realized Sabo's face was all sweaty and red, and he also realized that the older boy still had trouble regaining his breath after the training. It kind of brought him some comfort. So he wasn't the only one struggling to keep up with Bon's training rhythm. It's just that he was the one who dealt with it the worst.

Well, that could be fixed.

* * *

><p>And so he met Gin.<p>

The guy was doing some extra hours with Bon since he was in an inferior class level and intended on getting in Bon's class line. The trainer had agreed to supervise him and give him extra lessons so as to prepare him for what was to come, even though Gin was nowhere near prepared yet.

Where Sanji started to feel tired, Gin was starting to feel exhausted. When Gin fell to the ground for the third time, Sanji rushed to his side and helped him up. He was the one who fell first in his ordinary class, he was the one who kept having trouble with not throwing his guts out in exhaustion when the others still kept going and enduring the training. This time he was the same, just that he wasn't the first to fall.

Gin brushed his hand away, embarrassed that he was being helped by a younger kid or by anyone at all, but when he stumbled again Sanji gave no fucks and still helped him up, much to Bon's amusement.

Training lasted three hours and they were set free at eleven, both of them about to faint right there and then, with Sanji comically trying to walk Gin to the door since, out of the two, he was still the one in a better condition. Bon was patting their backs and then lower backs and then their butts as they exited, congratulating them for their efforts, and Sanji swore he'd kill him someday.

Kid and a long-haired blonde guy entered the now free room as they left it.

"Oh, hello, darlings! Have you come here to train again?" Bon singsonged as he passed them by, forcefully stopping them in their badass tracks so that they'd have to engage conversation with him.

"We actually came here earlier but the room was booked, so we waited until now," the blonde explained with a weird poker face. Kid didn't even make the effort to look interested in the conversation.

"Oh, yes, yes, it was! Well, now it's free for you, young men, to use! Have fun, sweethearts!" Bon waved them goodbye as he walked away in between pirouettes and Sanji came to the conclusion that there was something wrong with that man's brain. To start with, who the fuck put the kind of make up he did on their faces?! Didn't he realize he looked utterly awful?

He heard Gin discretely snickering by his side as he guided him to the changing room after waving goodbye to Kid and his friend. Only his friend waved back, Kid was already walking away with his back turned to them. Nice friendly dude, that Kid.

"So, who's the friendly guy?" Sanji asked as they started undressing.

"You mean Kid or Killer?" Gin asked back with a mocking smirk Sanji returned.

"Killer, I guess."

"Fun fact is that he really is the nice one out of the two of them."

Sanji smiled and he shook his head, then walked to the showers and turned his spray cold.

"Is Killer his real name?" he asked over the sound of the running showers.

"No clue. Most likely not," Gin's voice answered.

Sanji felt sweat leave his body as it cooled down and thanked God there was such a feeling to be relieved with at the end of his infernal training hours.

"Wanna go grab something to eat?" Gin offered when they were both dressed and left their lockers.

Sanji looked at his watch. It wasn't even twelve at noon. Maybe he could use some quality distraction time before going back home to have lunch. He knew that once he got there he would start doing homework and God only knows when he'd finish. So he accepted the offer and they walked together to the cafeteria. Sanji's gaze swept the place in search of a certain redhead but she wasn't there. He pouted in disappointment but was quickly interested in what Gin was telling him. Turns out the gangster-looking guy was the talkative kind of guy.

By the time they went back home, Sanji knew they'd be good friends. He wouldn't mind doing extra hours if he had to share them with that guy, he was cool to hang out with and Sanji was quick to get attached when he found someone worth to get attached to.

Sanji smiled to himself as he took a seat in his shitty line bus home. Looks like he'd found himself a potential good friend. Maybe he could introduce Gin and Sabo, they'd be a cool bunch of youngsters. That if they didn't know each other already, he was the new one there after all.

* * *

><p>"Damn, Sanji, you look tired as hell!" Usopp commented with a worried expression when Sanji walked towards him at lunch break at school.<p>

"S'alright," Sanji shrugged, yawning widely as he took a seat by his best friend's side.

"No, it's not. Have you seen these dark bags under your eyes? Damn, they should be illegal," Usopp protested as he shamelessly poked right at the dark bags, almost poking Sanji's eye.

"Drop it," Sanji grunted, opening his lunch box and taking a sleepy bite.

It had been more than a month since he had started his training regime at Grand Line and the fact that it had become a routine hadn't made it less tiring and time consuming. They were going through a tough period of exams at school and with the training hours he was barely getting five hours of sleep on a daily basis.

That wasn't what had Sanji utterly worried and wanting to break things, though. It was frustration. He had been there for a month, fucking giving his all and doing extra hours, and he still didn't feel like he was improving, if anything he felt like he was doing worse since exams had started. Even when Bon reassured him that his abilities had gotten better.

And still, that wasn't the worst. Sanji had already assumed that he was the last in class when it came to fucking dancing because he couldn't hold his shit together and had no resistance, so as much as he was elegant and smooth and damn flexible, that wasn't enough. Sanji had already assumed that. Sanji had already come to terms with himself about the fact that he needed far more practice and training, and he was taking measures to improve, even if they didn't seem to be working.

Nah, what actually irked him was the singing part. He had started his singing classes like a fucking lord in control of the situation because he knew his voice was this amazing. But guess what. His technique wasn't good because he had never had proper singing lessons but had taught himself instead, apparently restraining his boundaries. His voice was apparently capable of so much more but he had learnt to canalize it the wrong way. Okay, on the one hand it was good news since his voice could become that much more amazing. On the other hand it was fucking shitty, since he couldn't do what Igaram asked him to without straining his voice and he had ended up hurting his throat and now he had a raspy shitty voice and had to do some healing exercises instead of some that could actually improve it. When his voice had plainly broken that day in the middle of the singing lesson, Sanji had been about to cry. It had really hurt and it had sounded horrible. For a moment he thought he had broken his voice for real. He had been straining it and he knew it. It had been hurting and damn uncomfortable but he had kept pushing it because he didn't want to accept that he wasn't enough again. So he kept pushing it until it broke.

Luckily it wasn't serious damage, just an injury they could heal, but now he was stuck in retraining his voice and temporarily taken away from the collective class, which sucked and hurt his pride, and damn, his fucking throat hurt like a bitch when he tried to sing properly and he was damn scared because his voice was his magical key he couldn't afford to lose and he knew it. Once upon a time he had also thought it was his dancing skills that made him especial, but that idea had already vanished.

"Sanji?"

Sanji blinked his eyes open, surprised that they had been closed to start with.

"What?"

"Did you listen to a thing I said?"

"Sorry, Usopp, I…"

"You were sleeping on your food."

They looked at each other, Usopp accusingly and Sanji apologetically. Shit, that hard training and crazy schedule was really taking a toll on him and it had only been a month.

"Is this normal?"

"What do you mean?" Sanji asked in confusion.

"Normal as in if this is the usual training regime they make people go through in Grand Line. It seems a bit extreme to me," Usopp clarified with a frown. "Like, _a lot_."

Sanji gave it some thought and shrugged.

"Don't know. I've known a few guys whose training hours are less and definitely less intense, but I guess that depends on the potential the trainers see in you. I mean, it is hard for all of us, but I guess there are different levels of exigency towards each one of us. It depends on what you can give. They'll always ask for your 120%. If you can give a lot… well."

Usopp was listening intently and by the end of Sanji's reasoning he had half a smile painted in his face.

"Well, wouldn't that mean they think highly of you?"

"Nah, they are testing me. I'm new and my audition was good, they are pushing me to the edge to see what they can really get, I'm quite sure," he answered as he pictured Smoker's challenging smirk. That man had definitely wanted Sanji to prove himself and had probably talked his way to the highest spheres to place him where he wanted. Or so Gin and him had agreed on as a possible reason for Sanji being put in the high level classes he had been put in. "Don't worry though, if I keep being this shitty I'll get a more relaxed schedule soon enough. That if they don't send me home."

Usopp frowned at him.

"And since when are you such a pessimist? Mind you, but if they send _you_ home there are just two possible reasons. A) The people training there are really something else and most likely coming from Mars. B) Grand Line staff are freaking retarded and can't appreciate good talent, which means you'd better be out of it. There's no damn way they can't see you are good, Sanji. You are damn good, everyone with a pair of eyes and ears can tell! It's just that you can't intend to be at the same level of older and more experienced guys when you are only fourteen and have just started."

Sanji smiled at his friend, but all of his features looked tired as hell. And not that convinced anymore, even though he had once been the most confident kid out there.

"Come on, Sanji, you know they know it," Usopp insisted while placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as reassuringly as he could. "They wouldn't be pushing you this much if they didn't believe you can do it."

Usopp was trying to be a good friend and seriously worried about Sanji, and he knew it, so the blonde ended up drawing a more convincing smile and nodding. That seemed to placate Usopp's concerned frown and Sanji felt relieved. Having people trying to convince him that he was good enough didn't quite set well in him. He had never needed any external reassurance.

"Still, don't push yourself too hard. I was being serious when I said these dark bags under your eyes don't look healthy," Usopp resumed.

The bell rang and they both finished their lunch with a quick wipe and headed to their respective classes.

Sanji could only wish he wouldn't fall asleep in the upcoming lesson. Being a Grand Line kid wouldn't placate his teacher's strictness, he was just one more in the students' crowd.

He did fall asleep.

**TBC**

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hiiii! Okay, so this chapter was about the first days of Sanji as a trainee and how much he struggles and tries to settle in. I hope you enjoyed it! I guess Zoro will appear in the upcoming chapters, I still have to plan it, but I'm already looking forward to writing about their interactions ;)

See you! Thanks for the reviews! :)


	4. Trainee Days: New Kid

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* * *

><p>...<p>

**Trainee Days**

**Chapter 3**

**New Kid**

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><p>...<p>

All the kids making it to Bon Clay's class used to catch his attention. The reason was simple. They were good enough to be there, and they automatically entered his personal list of rivals. The more kids joining the training program reaching the higher levels, the less chances he got of being promoted when the time came.

But this particular kid would have caught his attention anyways, even if he hadn't made it to Bon Clay's realm. Even if, according to what rumors said, he hadn't made it _directly_ there without previous steps, coming straight from his audition, just like him.

Maybe it was the hair. It definitely stood out, it was _green_. Who the hell dyed their hair green at this age?

But, if he had to be honest with himself, it most likely was the aura he carried with him as he walked in. An aura that made him look unreachable. An aura that instantly put him, and pretty much everybody in the room (except for Bon, who didn't give a flying fuck), on guard. The guy wasn't a potential rival. He was a clear real and very tangible threat to everyone with expectations of being promoted. The way he carried himself gave away that he wouldn't take no for an answer. The air around him told them that he'd fight his way to the top using everything he had, and instinct warned them that his everything was going to cause them trouble.

So when the new kid entered the class as they all started gathering around, Sanji couldn't help but scrunch his nose at the sight. That green hair was, at the very least, offensive. Couldn't he have chosen a less radioactive green to disgrace his hair with? But Sanji wouldn't normally pick on other people's physical traits since he knew he himself was an easy prey if they wanted to get a comeback at him. His eyebrows and some imagination were pretty much everything any bastard needed to successfully make fun of him, so he'd rather keep his opinions on outrageous hairstyles, clothes or physical traits to himself. That unless someone would pick up on him first. That was always a bad move. Sanji's imagination faced no limits when his will was set on pissing someone off, and he always won. The kids around him knew by now, so nobody really messed with his eyebrows anymore and so he didn't mess with anyone's appearance, and his existence had become more or less pacific around other males. Needless to say he'd never pick up on a girl. They were perfect creatures he couldn't find a flaw in, even if they were to say the most horrible things to him sometimes.

Everyone stopped whatever they were talking about to ogle the newbie without the least bit of discretion. None of the present trainees needed discretion. They were all in that class because they were damn good and they knew it. Examining a new kid as if they were thinking of selling his organs and limbs to some kind of mafia was just expectable and nobody gave a fuck. Competence was competence and no one liked it.

Sanji had his back against the furthest wall in the rehearsal room with his arms crossed over his chest as he had the decency to actually keep his inspection discreet. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was studying that walking style-abomination, but at least he didn't look at him as if he was trying to get a grasp of his brain cells for study purposes. Anyways, he didn't need to stare much before knowing that kid was something else. He could've left it at that, of course, in fact he normally didn't take inspection further, but he was just too entranced in the task of figuring out what the fuck was wrong with his hair and hobo clothes. Did he even know where he was? Grand Line _did_ care about appearances, something he apparently didn't give a fuck about. Some further inspection suggested that the green haired kid might have put some thought in that aberration, though. One dyed his hair with that outrageous colour for a reason, right? Sanji doubted, and hoped, that it hadn't just been a mindless act, because if the only reason behind it was his sense of fashion, then that kid had a serious problem to take care of. Nah, if Sanji knew the kind of people who got into Grand Line, and he thought he did, that kid was trying to send a message out there. He was most likely attempting to look badass, dangerous, _different_. He was trying to outstand. He did look different. And he did outstand. But the dangerousness he oozed didn't have anything to do with his hair, in any case the colour even undermined the desired effect.

"I take it that he is the new phenomenon everyone is talking about," Sanji commented as his blue orbs followed the greenhead form crossing the room to sit alone in a corner while ignoring everyone as if they didn't deserve the least bit of his time and attention. To which Sanji raised an eyebrow.

Sabo shrugged besides him, also staring at the new trainee. "Guess so. He sure looks confident."

Sanji looked at Sabo and took in his entertained face. He briefly wondered what was going through his head. They had been something similar to friends for more than seven months now, but Sanji still didn't get how the bubbly guy worked. He had always been a bit of a puzzle to him, his chilled and laid back personality hiding something that Sanji couldn't quite grasp. Maybe it was just him, though, but he honestly didn't care. The only important thing here was that he felt comfortable by the older teen's side and that he could hold a decent friendly conversation with him. Which didn't happen _that_ often in Grand Line. So he generally stuck by Sabo's side by default.

The glaring assault that was going on from Kid to the new guy got his attention at some point. The redhead was pretty much pulverizing the crap out of the newbie through glares, which wasn't exactly effective given the fact that his victim was blatantly ignoring him. Sanji couldn't help but smirk in amusement at the sight.

"Looks like the king doesn't like our new acquisition," he observed. Sabo turned to take a look at his deeply amused expression and raised an equally amused eyebrow.

"You don't like him either."

Sanji's smirk turned into a full on grin. Always so blunt.

"What gave me away?" he mocked.

"Well, you don't like 80% of the males in this room and you just looked at him as if you had seen a walking crime."

The only real crime in that room was that green hair, but he kept it to himself. Sabo was his friend but he would probably have no problem bringing up his eyebrows in the conversation for the sake of fun if he started commenting on that piece of moss growing on the newbie's head.

"He looks arrogant," he shrugged. "Hasn't even said hi to anyone."

Sabo smiled and nodded, but, to be fair, it wasn't that unusual. Most of the kids in that class had a tad of diva attitude due to their effort to try to overpower the others in their own self-promotion for the company's brains to notice them as better than the rest.

Sanji didn't give a shit about the motives though. He had always carried himself confidently, maybe too much, and he had always been the first one to reckon his own talents, modesty aside, but he remembered his first day in that class and he had said hello to everyone, showing some damn respect for the guys who had made it to a class level that he knew was impressive and who had been there for far longer than he had, not to mention that he hadn't isolated himself in a corner looking as if none of the people around held a bit of interest for him. He had always been a bit of a social butterfly anyways, but basics were basics and showing respect to the people who you are going to train with for years is a damn clear basic.

"Good morning, my beautiful kids!"

Sanji's nose shrunk at the outrageous high pitched greeting and turned his head to face Bon Clay, who had just entered the class. He swore he'd never get used to Bon's shit, no matter how many months or years passed.

The dancing class started right after Bon had introduced the new student as Zoro Roronoa, to which the greenhead simply nodded, not looking the least bit interested in Bon Clay's attempt to help him socialize. Sanji took less than two seconds to have the fact that the guy was a prick confirmed in his head. He didn't like him. Full stop.

Sabo seemed amused as he watched Sanji's rather unimpressed expression and thought to himself that this would be funny. Sanji's relationships with males had always been a mystery to Sabo, but not one he didn't enjoy witnessing. It was always entertaining. The fact that the Zoro guy was already in his black list was visible and clear. At least Sanji restrained the urge to glare at him as Zoro walked towards them in order to merge with the group and listen to Bon's instructions. Kid didn't have that decency. Nah. He was full-on glaring at him, no restraint whatsoever. As far as he knew, Kid was the king of that class, and he didn't like anyone near him being more badass than him. The fact that Kid considered the greenhead a threat spoke volumes.

All along, Law was standing at the back of the group, only slight interest showing through. The kid had caught everyone's attention, but as far as he was concerned, he still had to prove himself. Not that he was concerned, though, Law used to mind his own business, which means he didn't give a fuck about what other people did. Not that he needed to. He was outstanding himself, most of the trainees knew that he was going to be promoted sooner or later independently of what the rest of them did or how well they performed. Law was going to make it big. End of. So he didn't need to worry.

Sanji felt his chest tighten a bit when Bon Clay announced they were to start practicing a new choreography. He had finally mastered the last one and was starting to feel confident and enjoying dancing to its beat. It was complicated and required a lot of chore, which had brought Sanji some serious trouble, but he had finally gotten a grasp of it, and not only that, he had started to like himself when he watched his reflection in the mirror while dancing. He had started to think, oh hey, I look cool. Which he hadn't felt for a while. Before he entered Grand Line he had always felt he was good and he had always liked his own improvised performances. But this was completely different. There was no free style dancing here, there were exact powerful moves that he had to coordinate with 13 other people. Now 14 if he counted the new acquisition. And if getting the moves was difficult, coordinating them with the rest was a nightmare sometimes, especially with the choreographies Bon Clay prepared for them. They were insane. So the anxiousness always came to him when Bon Clay announced they were about to do something new. It meant that he was back to square one, that he had to go through all of the process of feeling like he was a failure, killing himself to get to the others' level and finally being satisfied with himself only to restart again with something new. It's not like he didn't like a challenge, he did, and when he managed to master the choreography he'd feel an unpayable sense of pride, but Grand Line had had an effect on him, one he wasn't sure he quite liked. His trainee days so far had made him feel little, a little less capable, a little more fearful and apprehensive as opposed to the fearless daring kid that had auditioned for Grand Line. He still had the guts to take it and no one could say he lacked will and resolve, but the once over confident Sanji was nowadays full of awareness of his own flaws, which both made him want to push harder and shrink when he saw something big coming his way.

So, yeah, new choreography today. As anxious as that made him feel, he thought it wasn't necessarily that bad. The new guy had to prove himself and if they all worked in something new, they would all start from scratch. Which meant that, if the guy was as much of a beast as he seemed, he wouldn't ridicule the rest by mastering a choreography they had been rehearsing for weeks in only one class; and if he wasn't half as tough as he let them see, he'd still be put on equal footing with the others, his embarrassment slightly blurred by the fact that the rest were also struggling with learning something new. Bon hadn't decided to start something new that day just 'cause. It was smart and it was fair on all of them no matter the outcome, Sanji had to give him that. As much as he didn't like their more than weird instructor, he reckoned he could've had much worse. Bon lead one of the highest ranked classes for a reason, after all.

"I'll do it slow first, start following me, doesn't matter if you don't get it right at first. 5,6,7,8…"

Sanji kept frowning as he followed Bon Clay's now slow moves in the mirror, their instructor counting out loud for them. He was faring well until Bon Clay did one of his trademark badass impossible-to do moves and Sanji stumbled and had to stop and wait until he caught the flow with the next move. Half of them stopped just like him while Bon kept going, the rest tried to follow it with delay doing something similar to what they had witnessed, not much of an achievement, though. Kid smirked and followed with just a one second delay, speeding the movement at the very end to get back into the pace Bon had set. The damn guy was good.

But Sanji's eyes widened when he saw the greenhead guy do just the same, his precision on point and comparable to Kid's. Kid's smirk was wiped out of his mouth as he saw this in the mirror, anger and competitiveness slowly replacing it as he struggled to keep his attention on Bon in order to copy him while barely balancing it with checking on what Zoro was doing. Sanji blinked as he went back to following Bon, but he was too absorbed sneaking glances at Zoro's reflection, trying not to let the awe show in his features. The guy was _good_.

The class was one of the most fruitless ones they had ever had since Sanji joined the training program. Half of them were too distracted by Zoro's talented body movements and his ability to keep up with Bon just by following what he did for the first time. Sanji could feel something burning in the air. The trainees in that class had all accepted Kid's supremacy and didn't even bother to try and surpass him anymore, but they had always kept the rest on check, trying to beat them. Now things changed a bit after a long period of stableness. Now there was a new threat. Now there was someone who posed a threat to Kid, who was noticeably fuming. Now there was someone who clearly left 80% of the class in the most absolute shadow. And no one liked it. At all. Competence had a stronger meaning within Grand Line. Competence could mean you may lose the opportunity of being promoted after years of training, hard work, sweat and tears. Serious competence could very well mean you may have lost your teenage years in favour of nothing.

Sanji swallowed and mentally cursed when the class ended. He was out of breath and unusually tired, his self-esteem lower than it had been in a while, his determination weaker. Oh, shit. That guy was bad news. He watched as Zoro left the room without a word, his breathing heavy but still controlled. To be fair, Zoro had seemed to be in control of everything for the whole class, unlike the rest of them, except for maybe Kid. Even Law, the older guy who didn't actively do anything to stand out but still did as he always managed to be on point on everything he did, had had trouble keeping up today. Zoro had doubted and delayed on his movements maybe ten times, at the very most. While the rest had fucked up 80% of the time. Sanji was proud to say that he had finally managed to fuck up also 80% of the time instead of his former 90%, but he knew it still wasn't enough. Not with people like this Zoro guy around. He must've been his age and he was already this good.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and Sanji looked up, slightly startled as he had been too immersed in his thoughts.

"Planning on camping here or would you rather go home?"

Sanji smiled up at Sabo and stood up with great difficulty in order to follow him outside of the training room. Just as he was about to exit, Bon Clay called his name and he reluctantly turned around, trying to hide his disgusted face.

"What."

"Can I have a talk with you?"

Sanji raised an eyebrow. Whatever he had been about to reply died in his lips as he felt Sabo leave him to his luck closing the door behind him. So stay he did.

"What's wrong?" he cautiously asked.

He didn't like it when Bon demanded alone time with him. Not only did he fear for the safety of his butt and his innocence but it also meant that there was something wrong, and when there was something wrong he was usually asked to fix it, which always ended up with lots of extra hours of training, or worse: an encouraging speech and a pat in the back that did nothing but make him feel useless as much as the intent was to comfort him. Bon had picked up on the effect these kind of chats had with Sanji and he had tried to keep them to minimum. He knew the kid had an issue with his pride. And so he knew that what he was about to propose wouldn't settle well with him.

"Sit down for a bit."

Shit. Sanji didn't like this. He still sat on the floor, though, his figure unconsciously closed in himself.

"What did I do wrong?"

Bon pondered the situation and decided to be blunt. It always worked better with Sanji and it undermined his pride a bit less than if he tried to smooth it out for him.

"Well, today's rehearsal in general was particularly wrong."

Sanji scrunched his nose and tried to defend himself. "Everyone did bad, it was the first rehearsal. I actually thought that I had done a little better than… before, I don't know."

"No, I am sorry darling, but you actually did worse."

Sanji felt a pang in his chest and restrained a sigh. It wasn't time to look miserable. He had to suck it in and listen, his place in that team depended on how well he faced the challenges as they came. He was sure that if Bon had kept him there at the very beginning, when it was blatantly obvious that he couldn't handle the level he demanded, it was because he had shown determination and kept fighting.

He didn't say anything. He truly didn't know what to say. Maybe he had been too absorbed in what the newbie was doing as to pay attention at what he was doing himself, maybe that's why he hadn't realized he had done worse and thought that he was faring just as always instead.

"To be fair, all the team was worse today than it normally is. But your performance was really weak Sanji, and I seriously don't think you can afford that."

Sanji's eyes widened at what he just heard. Wait, was Bon implying that he didn't belong here? After 7 months? He knew he was struggling, but he didn't know his place in his class was that unstable. Was he really implying what he thought he was?

Since Bon had shut up for good, leaving him hanging, Sanji was forced to look at him and ask after one minute of unbearable silence.

"What do you mean?"

He found Bon pouting, his heavily eye-lined eyes staring at the ceiling in deep thought, which terrified young Sanji. What was he considering? When Bon seemed to reach a conclusion and looked back at him, Sanji's heart halted for a second.

"I didn't want to tell any of you this too early because it will only put extra pressure on you and make you do worse in rehearsals, but the company is planning to show off a bit by making my class perform in a business meeting. This is what this new choreo is all about. You are obviously forbidden to tell you peers until I decide to do so."

Sanji's mouth fell open at the words spoken.

"Wait, what?! Perform as in… perform in front of… people?"

Bon chuckled at his reaction. "Well, yes, darling. You usually perform in front of people."

Sanji blinked at him, to the point where Bon thought that maybe his words weren't registering in the teenager's brain.

"It's important people we are talking about, though. This is exactly why you can't afford not giving your 120%, Sanji. It's an important business meeting and Grand Line is planning on showing off, which means they are expecting the best from you all. If you don't do well this time you might be excluded from the performance, or worse, if you don't do well when you are actually performing you might be excluded from my class, period. They need to have an impact, they'll be testing the waters, see if what they have in store is capable of impressing people who are usually unfazed."

"Are they, like… debuting us?"

Sanji was seriously annoyed when a boisterous laugh escaped Bon, who looked like he had heard the best joke ever. "Of course not! You are anything but 'debutable', darling, most of you are! You are not even a close team, half of the trainees here don't care about the rest, how is that 'debutable'?" Sanji frowned as Bon kept on laughing. "Did you listen to anything I said? It's just to show off. And to see if you can impress who you'll need to impress in the future, if you get to that stage. Let me tell you that if you can't they'll be disappointed and you will all lose valuable points in their list. You need to do well, Sanji, this is not a joke," by that last statement, Bon had gone back to being completely serious and Sanji forced himself to listen instead of sulking because he knew Bon was right.

"When is this performance going to take place?"

"We have nearly three months and a half to prepare."

Sanji thought that three months wasn't _that_ bad.

"Which means we are short in time," Bon clarified.

Oh, great.

"Which means I need you to run an extra mile because the headboard is expecting perfection from you all, and you are far from being able to give that, Sanji."

Okay. Pride targeted and hit. Pride wounded. Sanji was already thinking on what to write on its tombstone when Bon spoke again, and not to make it any better.

"So I have a suggestion."

Sanji raised his head, already glaring at him. He already knew he wouldn't like it. He would have loved to tell him to shove his suggestion up his ass, but he knew he couldn't do that, not when his position was this fragile. He didn't ask, though. He didn't really want to know. Bon talked anyway.

"You know how you sometimes practice with Gin on weekends?"

Sanji furrowed his nose. Of course he knew. Gin had started to take extra lessons to be able to ascend to Bon's level while he took them to keep his place in it. Just that Gin hadn't been deemed enough yet. Their very intense and frequent joint practices had slowly been spacing out during the last months. They were still regular, but shorter and every other weekend. Sanji had the feeling that Bon had kind of given up on Gin. Gin kept fighting with claws and fangs, though.

"Yes…" he muttered. He didn't like where this was going.

"Well, I think it would be a good idea for you to have these extra classes with Zoro Roronoa instea-"

"-wait, _what_!"

Sanji seriously couldn't believe his ears. Nope. This was not happening.

"Look, he can help you. As much as I help you with your extra classes, I can only do it as an instructor. I think it would be a good idea to have someone your age who's striving towards your same goal practicing with you. I watched his audition, Sanji, and I've had him training alone for two weeks before the board decided to transfer him to my class. He is special and he has a way of doing this that can _actually_ help you if you just try to-"

"To what? Watch and take notes on how it's done?!"

Sanji was fuming. His pride had been buried three feet underground. Bon was basically saying that the new guy had enough talent as to spare on his poor weak self and enlighten him, maybe making him be less of an eye-sore while dancing in the process. Come on, he hadn't even talked to the guy yet, he didn't even _like_ him at all, and he was supposed to have him as… as what? His fucking mentor? Oh, no, hell, no! No way. Over his dead body.

"Sanji-"

"Not happening. See you tomorrow, thank you for the class," Sanji cut Bon as he stood up and left the room. Or so he tried.

He was stopped in his tracks when Bon's voice hit him like a rock, his tone suddenly glacial and authoritative. A kind of tone Sanji had never heard his instructor use. The kind of tone that suggested that either he stopped right there or he may consider his ass kicked out of the team not only for the performance but also for the rest of his trainee days in Grand Line. The kind of tone that reminded him that he had been given way too many generous chances he couldn't allow himself to refuse.

"I don't think I made myself clear enough."

Sanji turned around. Slowly. Fearing to face him. And when he did, he looked just as authoritative as his voice sounded, even with his outrageous tutu and makeup. Well, looking threatening while wearing _that_ was an achievement. And a more than good enough reason to _feel_ threatened.

"It's not a suggestion, Sanji. It's an order. You can't put any conditions here, not when it's you who needs to make the extra effort. And, believe me, you _need_ to make it. I've deemed it adequate for you to train for three extra hours every Saturday, from 10 to 13 h, with Zoro Roronoa. And as the performance day approaches I'll probably add Sundays. Did I make myself understood now?"

Sanji bit his lip. Damn it. His pride was at stake. Well, what was left of it, anyway. But so was his place in Bon's class. And as much as he knew that accepting was accepting that, again, he wasn't enough, he didn't have much of a choice, did he?

"What about Gin?" he muttered, the fight gone from his voice and replaced by resignation and bad hidden hurt.

"I'll take care of Gin. You'll work with Zoro."

Sanji nodded. Very reluctantly so.

"Look, this is for the best, it really can help you," Bon reasoned, his tone a bit more relaxed.

"Why him though? I don't even know him, he hasn't even bothered to… to even talk to anyone! He doesn't exactly look nice or willing to help," Sanji faintly questioned. And he really didn't. The new guy rather looked as if he only cared about himself. Not that he had hopes of changing his fate, but the decision still seemed pretty unreasonable to him.

"Well, taking into account that your relationship with the rest of the boys isn't exactly that great, it shouldn't matter anyways," Bon fired. To which Sanji had nothing to say. "There's not that many students who can actually lend you a hand and help you improve as much as I need you to, and the advantage with Zoro is precisely that you don't know him yet. There's no previous aversion between you two, so it's rather convenient for you."

Sanji rolled his eyes. He didn't see the point in this. He wouldn't have been as reluctant hadn't he seen the newbie's attitude and immediately disliked it. He looked arrogant and full of himself. Nobody said he didn't have reasons to be so, but that didn't make the attitude less dislikable, and Sanji was having enough trouble with his pride as to have someone dragging it through the mud, which Zoro seemed quite capable of doing just by the mere 'ignoring the rest of the peasants' thing he had been pulling during the whole rehearsal. No, he didn't like the idea one bit. But he didn't have a saying in this, so he just sighed.

"Can I leave now?"

"Yes, darling, that's it! I'll talk to Zoro about this," Bon cheerfully conceded, back to his goofy self in the blink of an eye. "Rest a lot baby cheeks, you'll need it!"

Sanji didn't bother to answer or even glare at him as he silently left the room, his feet dragging in defeat.

When he entered the locker rooms he was relieved to see that the greenhead was nowhere to be seen as he had probably gone home already. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked to the showers, where he heard Sabo talking animatedly with one of the trainees through the shower curtains. He didn't try to meddle in the conversation or let them know that he was there, he just showered in silence. He didn't really feel like talking to anyone, rather, he felt the need to cry in frustration, because, _again_, he had basically just been told that he wasn't good enough.

He tried to brush this line of thought off and instead worried about how to approach the green haired dude, who seemed quite unreachable. What was he supposed to do? Go and talk to him? And then what? He didn't feel like it at all, he didn't have any interest in talking to the new guy, and he didn't like the idea of feeling inferior when doing so. Plus, he _knew_ the kid wouldn't be nice to him at all. It was a given.

Damn it. He had a really bad feeling about Bon's whole plan. This wasn't going to end well, his gut told him. And his gut feelings were never wrong.

**TBC**


End file.
